


Goodbye

by EclipsedGhost



Category: World Trigger (Anime & Manga)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Character Death, Gen, Heavy Angst, Hurt No Comfort, Introspection, Sad Ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-19
Updated: 2020-10-19
Packaged: 2021-03-08 17:15:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,348
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27110305
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EclipsedGhost/pseuds/EclipsedGhost
Summary: The fight didn't go as expected.
Comments: 1
Kudos: 27





	Goodbye

**Author's Note:**

> Going through my docs I found this in my files and... yeah I can see why I didn't post this before. Well it's here now-

In the rage of the battle, things tend to go too fast to think and react accordingly and rationally, it’s either relying on your instincts or dying. Sometimes, however, relying on your instincts alone could easily lead to an early grave.

Yuma should’ve learned that lesson long ago, when he was too young and stupid to realize just what the hell he was getting into, when his confidence and recklessness had almost costed him his life and took away his father. Maybe people were right when they said that old habits die hard.

It was too late to remember that before shielding someone so carelessly with his own body he should’ve made sure of being able to survive the hit himself. In his defense, after all those years with a body made of trion, forgetting what pain and fatal injuries felt like, it was a little hard to remember that he too had a limit, that all it took was one hit more than what he could handle to end his already precarious life.

Not like it mattered anymore.

It was almost funny, ironic even, how a few seconds felt like an eternity for just a moment, right before it all came crashing down on him. Yuma would probably be laughing at what he felt was a terrible joke if it wasn’t for the blood filling his lungs and making him want to cough until he threw up his organs.

He could feel what little was left of his fake body's trion, broken beyond repair, slowly fading away, quickly replaced by something he didn't experience in years. Pain. A burning, unbearable pain that overcame all his senses. He definitely had forgotten how pain felt like, and he certainly wouldn't mind forgetting all over again.

Yuma was vaguely aware of the screaming -did he scream too? Or was he too numb to take notice of what just happened? Maybe he tried and choked on own his blood-, of someone yelling his name at the top of their lungs, but every sound, every voice, it all blended together in a distant and muffled cacophony that still managed to be loud enough to hurt and make him feel like his head was about to explode. Maybe that wasn't so far away from the truth either, he certainly couldn’t tell when he couldn’t even see how bad his old injuries were.

The effort alone of keeping his eyes -eye, he almost forgot the other was lost long ago- open was already too much, black spots starting to creep in his vision as the pain overcame his senses. Some part of him numbly realized that it was all disturbingly familiar, like some sort of scary Deja-vu, but his mind was far too busy just trying to process that he was dying again to bring back those memories.

"O-Osamu... Sorry, I-I can't... help you guys... a-anymore..." a humorless smile crossed what was left of his face, dark locks falling into his eye as he tried to look up at the person kneeling at his side. His vision was getting blurrier and blurrier as the seconds passed, and he barely made out the shape of square glasses on the other's face. "A-And now that I wanted to live again... W-what a bad joke... s-should’ve known that… i-it wouldn’t l-last…"

He barely felt Osamu's grip on his hand, straining just enough to hear his desperate cries for help and empty words of comfort, repeating over and over that it would be ok, that they'd get him help ad everything would be alright, almost begging him to hold on just a little longer. Yuma didn't need to see the tears already rolling down his face or hear how much his voice was trembling and breaking to know the mantra was meant more for himself than for the dying neighbor. If that helped Osamu, then he didn't mind. Or maybe he was just too exhausted to care anymore.

It felt almost stupid to still try and keep his usual carefree smile on, to hold back the tears in spite of the pain, who would care about that in the middle of a bloody battlefield and on his deathbed? It wasn’t like Osamu or anyone else would care by now, they weren’t stupid, they knew exactly that he was dying and there was no way of sugarcoating it.

There really wasn’t a way to dodging it this time around, was it? Maybe it wasn’t such a bad thing by now, he did overstay his welcome in this world, after all. He’d been living on borrowed time for far too long. Dying because he took one too many hits and his trion ran out though… that wasn’t the way he wanted to go at all. Guess he couldn’t be picky after looking for a battle. Looks like his first near death encounter did little for his self-preservation instincts. And he didn’t even get to find what he was looking for. What a disappointment, all those stolen years he was living through and it was all for nothing.

“D-don’t… m-make that face…” Honestly he didn’t know what Osamu’s face was actually looking like, not when he couldn’t even see him anymore between the black spots, the blurriness blending every color and shape together and the headache splitting what was left of his head in half, but Yuma had known him long enough to easily picture it in his mind when the pain wasn’t tinting everything red. It wasn’t that hard when Osamu was so painfully easy to read.

Whatever else he tried to say was drowned out by a sudden coughing fit and the taste of iron coming back, and suddenly he remembered that yes, at least one of his lungs was filled with blood and would likely kill him if organ failure or shock or whatever else he was going through didn’t sooner. Judging by how hard it was to breathe without choking, the punctured lung looked like the winner, and he quietly noted how disturbing it was to be so calm while trying to decide what would kill him before his body caught up with the rest of his injuries.

It took him all of the energy he had left to focus enough to keep talking, even when it wasn’t more than a strained whisper. He might have already accepted that he was dying, but there was something he needed to say before kicking the bucket.

“O… O-Osamu… t-take-” When another cough took what little air was left in him and the blood in his mouth made him choke all over again, he knew he had to hurry, and so with a weak and desperate attempt to move his trembling hand he tried to pull his trigger out, to give it to his friend and keep it safe. “T-take… my t-trigger...” Sure, from a strategic point it might not be the best idea to give a black trigger to Osamu of all the people, but he didn’t really care- nor was he really able to think clearly in his current condition. He trusted Osamu more than almost all of Border anyways, and he definitely preferred to have it go to the Tamakoma branch, they would know how to use it better than anyone else in the organization.

When the expected protests came, Yuma didn’t reply, too tired to even try and string the words together and too busy coughing the remaining shreds of his lungs out to care. Weakly fiddling for a moment with his ring, he managed to pull the trigger out with his remaining hand and push it into Osamu’s with what little strength he had left, ignoring the muffled sobs and pleas from his friend to hold on and resist just a little longer, they could find a way to help him, _please don’t die-_

Then, Yuma smiled. It was small and weak, yet it was one of the most genuine smiles he’s ever showed.

“T-thank… you…”

There was so much more he wanted to say, to do, to live for.

It all died with him.


End file.
